God is a visual and auditory learner
his angels say. He doesn’t like to read
but show him a picture of twenty dead
children, tell him he’s the least popular god
in the history of gods and then he’ll drop
fifty nine Tomahawk missiles.
Pictures of bear cubs or wolf pups don’t move
him though. He signs the paper allowing his
chosen people to murder them. Sioux
or Lakota stories of river water diluted
with oil or blood excite him.
Either no-one told him the story
of the earth heating up or
he wants the seas to rise.
He sends all those dark people
who worship different gods
away. Only his chosen people
can stay.
And in our current story
we aren’t the chosen people.
We haven’t been looking for
our savior to lead us back
into our great land. We
don’t love this god
we don’t respect this god
even when the bombs drop
the rivers run red, the seas
rise, the pelts are collected
and displayed.
We’d like to keep growing
wheat or rice, raise our
beloved cattle, but the ticks
crawl into our groins and
the locusts leap into our hair
our ears, our eyes, eat our
seeds. Soon this god will
kill our sons and daughters
tanks on the streets again
this time with no shame.
Meanwhile the new chosen
ones shuffle on their journey
into the land they believe
to be theirs. They believe
they will be fed and cared for
and that they will recognize
their home and it will be great.
Again.
Perhaps tonight is not
the night to celebrate
the plagues our God sent
to force Pharaoh to
set our people free
a long time ago.
